


Flinch

by Mony (Mony_Writes)



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mony_Writes/pseuds/Mony
Summary: Sometimes, Spot hates learning new things about Race.______Some angsty Sprace ft Charlie being a great brother.
Relationships: Crutchie & Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	Flinch

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk/prompt me over on my Tumblr @wide-eyed--wonderer !! And, as always comments/feedback are welcomed and appreciated!!

Most of the time, Spot loves learning new things about Race. 

The first time he saw him smile wide enough to see his dimples, the way his eyes light up when he talks about dancing or his brothers, and songs he hums when he’s cooking. 

There are some things Spot would rather he never had to learn about Race.

Like today, for example. 

Admittedly, he hadn’t actually known Race was in their room. Race usually met Al for some dance thing on a Friday afternoon, but Al had gone home for the weekend, and so Race was there. 

Spot stormed in, letting the door slam behind him. He didn’t even notice Race jump from where he was sitting on the bed. 

“How dare he,” Spot seethed pacing back and forth in the small space, “that weasel can kiss my ass if he thinks he’s gonna get away with this!”

“Spot?” 

“He’s lucky I didn’t punch his stupid face in. Or that Delancy asshole. The two of them are just asking me to hit them at this point.” Spot started gesturing wildly, trying to get his anger out before he actually went out and hit somebody. 

“Spottie?” distantly, Spot registered that Race was sitting up on his bed and tracking Spots movements with his eyes. 

“Can you believe it? What a fucking ridiculous answer to a stupidass homework question. I should have known that shithead would side with him too”

“Spot?”

“And actually asking us about Theories surrounding love. What kinda asshole therapist is he trying to get us to be?” 

“Spot.” Later, Spot would recognise that Race sounded desperate at this point, like he was almost begging him to stop. 

“He can shove his theory of love up his-” Spot cut off and froze, arm mid arc, as Race flinched so violently he fell off the bed. 

“Race? Hunny?” Spot rounded the corner and moved to hug Race, who curled up into a ball and whimpered. His head was hidden in his arms. 

“Baby, it’s just me, can you look at me?” Spot crouched down near Race, scanning him and trying to figure out if he’d hurt himself when he fell. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll be better I promise please don’t-”

“I need you to look at me Race,” Spot said a little firmer, trying to get Race to listen, but he just curled up tighter and shook his head. 

“No, no please, I can’t anymore, stop, please.”

Shit was this a flashback? Jack had warned him that sometimes Race gets set off and he loses where he is and that he needed to try to bring him back and help him remember where he was. Spot tried to remember how Jack had told him to do that, but it was hard to focus when his boyfriend was crying in the background. 

“Sweetheart I promise I’m not mad, I just want you to see you’re safe.” Spot racked his brain for that thing people in movies did when someone’s having a panic attack. 

“Can I touch you baby?” 

Race jolted back against the bed frame hard enough for the pillow to fall off. 

“Ok, ok. No touching. Got it.” Spot stood up and moved back from Race, “Ok, um..” Spot brought his hand up to run in through his hair, and Race (who Spot hadn’t even realised was watching him) flinched again. 

Spot stared at his hand for a second, trying to figure out what he did, but Race’s whimper brought him back to reality. 

“Shit uhh... Jack’s away…” Spot was wildly out of his depth here, and he needed some help, “Charlie! Race, do you want me to go and get Charlie? You don't have to talk, just nod or shake your head.”

Race nodded his head quickly, but without taking it out from his arms.

“OK, I can do that. I’ll be right back baby, promise.” 

Spot bolted out of their dorm room, leaving the door open behind him, and down the hall to where Charlie shared with Finch. 

“Charlie! Charlie you in there?” Char-”

“I’m here Spot. What’s up.” a tired Charli opened the dorm already in his pyjamas. 

“I think Race is having a flashback thingy and -” Charlie instantly looked more alert. 

“Shit, ok, lead the way.” 

Spot and Charlie quickly made their way down to the dorm, where Spot let Charlie go in first. 

“Racer?” Spot heard Race sob, but he didn’t make himself known, so Spot pointed to the other side of the bed where he’d left Race. 

Charlie rounded the bed and sat on the floor near Race. Spot followed, but stayed back, watching the two interact. 

“Hey, Racer. Spot said you needed me, I’m here, ok.” Charlie kept his eyes on Race as he talked, but he sounded calm and relaxed, as if he was having any other conversation with his brother.

“We’re in your dorm room, with Spot, on campus. See, this is your bed that we’re next to, and we’re in our pyjamas cause it's the weekend but there are no parties on cause everyone's too busy and stressed to party.” Charlie took a deep breath and watched Race. Spot was also closely watching Race, and could see the tension slowly leaving his shoulders, and the sobs quieten as he listened to Charlie. 

“And listen closely, can you hear that?” Charlie paused, “That's the water from the fountain outside. I’m so jealous you can hear that from your dorm. Have I ever told you that before? I can’t hear it from my window, and it sucks. It’s like a free ambience to help you sleep at night. I bet it's nice, hey?”

“Ye- yeah.” Race peaked his head out of his arms and looked at Charlie, letting Spot get the first real look at his face since this had all started. He still had tears running down his face, but his eyes looked clear, and he was staring straight at Charlie, who was smiling softly back. 

“You ready to be touched? Or do you need more time?”

Race nodded quickly, and Charlie opened his arms and let Race come to him. Race slowly crawled in between Charlie’s outstretched legs and rested his head on Charlie's shoulder, letting his brother’s arms wrap around him. 

“You’re safe Race, it’s ok,” Charlie muttered into Race’s ear. Some of what he was saying was lost to Spot under Races crying, but as Charlie continued to hold him, the sobs eased.

Eventually, Race lifted his head from Charlie's shoulder and looked around the room. His eyes eventually landed on Spot 

“Spottie?” he cocked his head and looked at Spot, as if he’d only just noticed he was there. His eyes widened as he remembered what had happened. Spot held his breath, waiting for Race to kick him out, instead, he reached out an arm in invitation and Spot practically fell to the floor next to Race, letting his boyfriends arms wrap around him. 

“I’m so sorry Race...I didn’t… I swear.. I would never.”

Spot felt Charlie stand up and press a kiss to Race’s forehead. 

“I’m gonna go, you two know where to find me.”

“It’s ok Spottie,” Race sniffed, “I know you didn’t mean to. It just…. You were shouting and saying all that stuff and - and I know that - that you’d never hurt me but… I guess my brain forgot who you were for a second.”

“I know Race,” Spot sighed and raised a hand to run through his hair, but froze halfway when Race flinched back against him. 

Spot stared at Race for a moment, the gears in his head clicking into place.

He really, really wanted to be wrong.

“Why do you flinch every time I raise my hand…?”

Race’s broken eye contact and rewelling of tears was answer enough.

Spot's first instinct was to get angry. How dare someone hurt Race like that. What had they done that made Race so scared of such an - an innocent gesture? And often enough that he associates raising hands to pain and fear. Spot wanted to go out and teach whoever did this to Race a lesson in real fear.

But one look at Race and Spot knew that it wouldn’t help. Race needed him here right now. Spot can’t fight his demons of the past, he could only hope to protect him from those in his future.

“Oh, sweetheart, c’mhere.” Spot reopened his arms and let Race fall into them.

“I’m - I’m so sorry - you- you don’t deserve this. You deserve, you deserve so much be- better than this, then me.”

“Race. Racer. Hey.” Race pulled back to look at Spot. “You are perfect, ok. I love you so much, and nothing is going to change that, ok. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Race fell back into Spots arms, and the two boys stayed on the floor, holding each other until they were ready to face the world again


End file.
